Dragon Mage
by StarWitch
Summary: Remember how no human mage can take immortal form? Athis has broken that rule, and now must run as the only dragon in the Mortal Realms.
1. The Experiment

Disclaimer: Tortall, Carthak, and all that belong to the wonderful Tamora Pierce! –all cheer!- Athis Termari and Oran Kowiin belong to me –all boo!- Hey! Rude!I am not making money off this, please don't sue me!

Author's note: This is my first ever fanfic, please let me know whatcha think! Compliments and flames both appreciated!

Just outside Thak's Gate, Carthak, Human Era 324

A rough wagon shuddered as it rolled over the dusty ground several miles east of the great River Zekoi.Its three passengers shifted nervously as the wood groaned.One of the two men piped up."This wagon sounds like my dear uncle just after midnight guard duty," he laughed.A sudden lurch threw him against the woman to his left."And is about as balanced."

The woman nodded with a brief smile to him, then turned to study the area again with anxious gray eyes.The second man glanced at her and leaned over to whisper in her companion's ear."Is she always so quiet?I never met a mage with the ability to be silent for more than a minute. No offense, Mage Kowiin."

The man in the red robe smiled, "None taken.Mage Termari is rather shy around most people.No offense!"

The mage felt a tap on his arm."We should stop now, Oran," the female mage said, "We're far enough from the city." She waited until the wagon stopped, then jumped off without a care for her safety or her hunter green robe.Oran Kowiin, her fellow mage, lifted a bundle out from the wagon and paid the wagoneer, explaining they had no future need of the wagon and that the man could go home.As the mages watched, the wagon turned back toward Thak and soon disappeared into a speck on the horizon.The woman finally sighed and walked rather stiffly to her partner. "Are wagons always that bad?" she asked.

Oran rolled his eyes. "Sometimes, Athis," he laughed, "I wonder what glass tower you've popped out of!"He turned to the pack and grabbed a large brown pillow and a small blank book. Setting the pillow on the ground, he quickly made himself comfortable.

Athis gave a smile as she brushed back a fall of dark brown hair.Oran was always cheerful and joking around.One would never think he was a master mage!She certainly hadn't guessed when she had met him.Her smile widened with the memory.

Returning to the present, she glanced at Oran."Do you really think a human mage such as myself can take a immortal form?" she questioned. "One would think the gods would be against something like that."

"If anyone could do it," the black-haired man told Athis, "it's you. As for if it's possible, that's why this is an experiment."Oran's dark brown eyes sparkled as he motioned to the book on his lap. "We'll be the first record of a mage taking an immortal form!"He grinned, caught up with his excitement from the experiment.

Athis nodded.Oran adored experiments, and she had to admit this was a good one.Even if it had taken months of tedious research.Even if they weren't supposed to do it.Maybe, she thought, especially since they weren't supposed to do it.

Of course, there was also plain curiosity to blame.

Oran broke into her thoughts."Are you sure you have the dragon's form in your mind's eye?"

Athis grinned, the expression transforming her serious features.Did she know dragon form?She'd loved tales of dragons since she was let out of the crib.Her adoration of flying in bird form had only made her more sure of what immortal form to try in the experiment."Yes, Oran," Athis told her friend, "I am ready."

Athis stepped away from the man, her footsteps raising tiny puffs of dust.She then stood still.Her gaze turned inward, the mage reached for the pearly violet that was her Gift.A slight shock slid though her as she touched the magic.

Suddenly, Athis felt her body elongate.She gritted her teeth.It wasn't that becoming some other creature was painful, for it wasn't.It was just so uncomfortable!Her bones shifted, becoming long, strong, hollow.Her skin itched as it became dry, sharp-edged scales; her mouth and nose made a grinding sound as they jutted out into a muzzle.Athis moaned.Something feels wrong, she thought.

Oran watched nervously as his fellow mage and friend disappeared inside a cold mist the color of a king's royal robe.Squinting in an attempt to see Athis, he was completely unprepared for the bright flare of light that blazed out from the magic.Oran blinked his dazzled eyes and spilled off his pillow in an undignified heap."Shakith!" the mage cursed.What had happened?Never in all his years had he seen something like that, and Oran was willing to bet no other mage had either.If Athis was hurt or-

A low rumbling a few feet away interrupted his thoughts.The bright, pearly glow of magic surrounding Athis faded.

Oran stared, frozen.Standing where Athis had been was a dragon.Its dark green scales reminded him of the polished emeralds in the mosaics at the palace while the underbelly was covered in jade green scales.Long, elegant wings stretched out, as if being tested.The head upon its thin neck stretched out and turned in front of Oran.Staring at his reflection in the great eye, Oran suddenly realized that eye was gray, and very familiar.

"Athis?" the mage asked, his voice cracking like a teen's."It is you, right? Are you well?" 

The dragon bobbed its head up and down in an imitation of a nod. -_Yes, Oran. It's only me.Me with wings and pretty green scales. Are we done shaking yet?_- Athis worried. It wasn't like Oran to panic in an experiment.Had something really gone wrong?

No, she decided.It was just the shock of seeing a full-size dragon in front of him that made Oran nervous.It had to be.

Oran's chuckle reassured her."Only, you, Athis, would comment something like that."Picking himself out of the dust, he attempted to regain his dignity.Failing, he picked up his book and prepared to write."So, Athis," the man began, "what is it like being a dragon?"

-_Physical or mental qualities first?_-

"Physical, please.What are the senses like in there?"

-_Sight much better than in humans, comparable to hawk's sight, maybe for seeing other dragons at a distance? Smell not so good, but…_-

~*~*~*~

The stars were beginning to come out.Oran had taken out a lamp, but even so was squinting to see what he had written.Athis had curled her tail around her and lay with her head next to Oran's legs, listening to the man's muttered questions.

"…and you say there's currents of some sort you're sensitive to now? What sort of currents?"

-_Wind currents and currents of magic worked by man or immortal, I told you that half an hour ago._- Athis sighed, which translated into a soft growl in her dragon's throat.

Oran jumped at the sound, jerking his lead stick across the page."Don't do that!" he yelped, then calmed."A half hour ago?"

-_Yes, Oran.Don't you think we should go back?_- she said, glancing up.

–_The moon is getting rather high._-

The mage groaned, running a hand through his dark hair."I suppose you're right.Change back and I have a transport spell ready to go."

Athis nodded and reached once more for the purple core of her magic.Out of the corner of her eye she saw Oran back up, pillow under one arm and journal in one hand.Then her vision became enveloped by violet.

But this time there was no itching sensation, no grinding.Suddenly, Athis trembled, hearing a sharp clang nearby, as if a gate had slammed.A sharp wind gusted, whipping her wings about, and a terrible voice came with it.

**_You made your choice, child.You cannot go back._**

-_No, please, Lady!_- Athis screamed at the wild, terrible voice.–_I don't understand! What choice?_-But there was no answer.Her vision went black.

Athis found herself out of her cloud of magic, crouched close to the ground as if for safety.Her ears still rang with the force of the terrible voice.But what had that voice meant?

The ringing finally subsided enough to hear Oran yelling her name and a series of obscenities he had to have learned from his guard uncle.–Enough Oran.- Athis whispered.

Oran trotted up to her side, looking concerned."Athis?What went wrong?Why are you still in dragon shape?"

-_What? I'm still a dragon?_-Athis paused, suddenly stuck by the meaning of the terrible voice's words. –_I cannot go back._-

"What, Athis?"

The dragon straightened.–_I am still in dragon form because I cannot go back.The gods decree that no mage can leave immortal form._-

Oran looked as if he had been struck."Gods, no.Athis, I…"

Athis fixed her friend with a steely gaze.–_I can_ never _go back._-

So?Does anyone care what happens to Athis?How's Oran going to get outta this one? Please review!!! 


	2. The Mistake

Hi, everyone!  Sorry about the wait; had this thing called life.  Thank you for being patient! Special thanks to my five reviewers, you are all wonderful and I thank you forever!  As for the rest of you, enjoy.  Please review!

Disclaimer: Carthak, the university, and anything else frm the Tortall universe belongs to the incredible Tamora Pierce.  Mages Athis Termari, Oran Kowiin, and Mina Kerma are mine. Ask if you need them.  Now, on with the fic!

–_I can_ **_never_** _go back._-

                Athis let the terrible statement hang in the air, watching Oran go into shock.  She was still in shock herself.  Never to go back to the university?  Never to see her family again?  Never to marry, or gain another mage robe, or even get in another fight with her mage friends?

      Wait, she could fight with at least one mage.

      _-Oran, you idiot!-_ Athis thundered into Oran's mind.  _–I can't go to the university or go home because I'm a dragon for one of your experiments.  I can't change back, there's not one way you or any mage could help, and I don't even know what dragons eat!-_  She paused for a moment. _–What would a dragon eat?  Where would one sleep?-_

      Oran was stock still, very pale despite his tan skin.  Dark brown eyes stared blankly at nowhere, full of terror, shock, and a deep-reaching guilt.  Athis twitched him lightly with the tip of her long tail, worried that some magic had lashed back at him when she had tried to change back.  He didn't respond.  She tapped him a second time, harder this time.

      The man's eyes snapped into focus.  "Athis," he began, "I-am-so-sorry-and-I-promise-we'll-find-an-answer-somehow-Shakith-I-have-no-idea-how-this-could-have-happened-I-had-no-idea-or-I'd-never-have-suggested-that-"

      _-Oran! Enough.-_ Athis told him, regaining her usual serenity after her outburst. _–We shall deal with this.-_  Oran stopped his rambling, but didn't respond.  _–You will be alright?-_ Athis questioned, still mildly worried about him.

      Oran nodded slowly.  "Yes, I'm fine," he told her with a crooked smile. "You?"

      _-Well enough. Is there any chance we could fix this tonight?-_

      "I don't think so.  I don't have the equipment here."

      _-Very well.  You go back to the university and sleep.  Tomorrow we shall try-_

      Oran looked startled.  "But Athis, don't you want this fixed tonight?  You can't go back to the university like this!"

      _-I don't plan to.-_ Athis retorted. _–Nor do I plan to let an exhausted mage try experimental magic on me.  It would be remarkably silly to allow it.-_

      "But I-" Oran began, then sighed. "I suppose.  But where will you stay tonight?"

      Athis glanced gracefully over one wing at the empty desert. _–Here, I suppose.-_

      Oran nodded regretfully, then rummaged through his pack.  "I'll set up a beacon then, so I can be here at first light."  He worked in silence as Athis watched him finish.

      "Athis?" Oran asked. "I'm sorry."

      _-I know.-_

      "We'll fix it soon, I promise."

      _-I know.-_

      "All right then, as long as you know," Oran joked, his voice falling flat. "'Till tomorrow."

      _-One thing, Oran.-_

      "Yes?"

      _-What do dragons eat?-_

      Oran stared as if Athis had grown two heads, then cocked his head to the side considering it.  "I don't know.  Any impulses to eat virgins?" he said with a crooked grin.

      Athis snorted smoke at him, but couldn't keep from laughing in his mind.

      Oran grinned, a real grin this time. "Right then," he said, far more cheerful.  "See you tomorrow."  He gathered his things and broke a small twig.  Athis felt him streak away back to the university.  Sighing, she lay on the ground, curled her slim tail around herself, and settled down to watch the stars.

~*~*~*~

       Oran crept though the quiet halls of the university back to his rooms, quietly berating himself.

      "You idiot!  Athis is stuck a dragon in the middle of the desert because of your stupid experiment.  If she's right about the gods, she'll never change back!  You'll be lucky if she ever speaks to you again!" he muttered to himself coming up to his door.  Then the last thoughts sunk in.

      If his experiment resulted in the loss of a mage, not only would Athis hate him, the university would do something.  Loss of his robe, expulsion, binding of his magic, maybe even his death… the university could do anything to him.  And while he could deal with the loss of his robe, Oran couldn't stand the thought of his magic being bound.  He had found his magic since he was two; he couldn't remember life without it.  So what to do?

      He was still standing outside his door lost in thought when he felt someone shaking him.  "Mage Kowiin?" a soft female voice came.  

Turning, Oran saw a pretty blond woman wearing a light blue robe.  His memories suddenly pulled up the image of this woman in his classes, in the laboratory, a gifted practical mage named…"Hello, Mage Mina Kerma."

      The blond woman smiled at him.  "Oran, right?"  At his nod, she continued, "What are you doing up so late?  I didn't think you had signed up for a lab tonight."

      Oran froze.  Tell her what he was doing, she would tell the Masters, and he would be arrested by sunup.  "Uh…"

      Mina shook her head at his pack.  "Studying late, I guess.  You look like you've spent too much time with the books.  Trust me, it doesn't help at all."

      Oran gave a quiet sigh of relief.  "No, it doesn't.  In fact, I was turning in right now.  I'll see you tomorrow," he said, pushing back into his room.

      "Yes, wise.  Until tomorrow, then," Mina replied.  "Good night!"

      Oran shoved his door shut, then slumped against it, breathing far too hard for the easy walk to his room.  So close!  If Mina hadn't thought he was studying, he would have been too suspicious.  She'd have turned him in.  If he was caught…

He had better hope he could help Athis, or he was finished.

Question: do you want Oran caught or not?  Please let me know!  Please review!


	3. Last Chance

Disclaimer:  I do not own this universe, it belongs to Tamora Pierce.  Athis, Oran, and Mina are mine; you can use them, but please ask. 

Author's Notes:  Sorry about the eternal wait!  I am truly sorry.  Thank you Goddess of Purple Coats for reminding me I have an audience out here, and I thank you all for your continued interest.  Now, onto the part you want!                               -StarWitch

~*~*~

Three weeks later 

            "Shakith take it!"  Oran cursed as an impressive bout of violet and gold flame scorched the spot where he had just been standing.  "That should have worked!"

            -_Of course_- Athis replied.  –_Just like the one before should have worked.  And the one before.  And the one last week_.-  Still slightly clumsy in the dragon body, she pulled herself heavily upright until she towered over the human mage.  Oran had stopped being afraid of her as a dragon a week and three days ago. She had kept count.  And how sad is it, Athis thought, when the most interesting thing for me to remember is when Oran stopped levitating when I came up on him.

            Oran whirled about to glare at Athis.  "You know, you aren't the only one with difficulties at the moment," he growled.  "Due to a mistake, one of my friends is trapped in dragon form and it's looking like my fault.  Mina is getting suspicious, and I just got paired with her on an experiment!"

            -_I thought you had come up with a way to throw her off track_- Athis commented rather heatedly. –_It's not my fault your experiment went wrong and trapped me in this form or that you can't solve your own problems._-  

            Oran's eyes grew wide in shock.  "I'm trying my hardest to get you back and you insult me?!" he shouted.  "You know I'm the only one who can help you-"

            -_For all the good that's done_.-

            "If you don't want my help, fine!  Figure it out for yourself!"  Oran yelled.  He stomped over to a small crystal that glimmered a sunny yellow.  He had created it as a better beacon, when Athis had insisted on moving out of the desert and away from other people.  She had found a mountain cave, cool enough to be survivable in Carthak's extreme heat and large enough to contain her increased bulk.  The crystal at the entrance let Oran teleport directly to the cave.  It also changed colors; when Oran was at the cave, it was yellow.  When he was at the university, it was blue.  He had also put in a warning system.  It had turned blood red only once, when a caravan was in the pass above the cave.  Athis had stayed in the cave for two days, waiting for them to leave.

            Now Oran was a storm of brown robes and dark features as he grabbed the crystal.  Athis stared at him.  –_You're taking it?!_- she said.  Oran just stared back at her, then took a long look at the yellow crystal in his hand.  Athis stood frozen.  Quietly, the mage put down the crystal and disappeared in a flash of orange.

            Athis shuddered.  She had never been so scared in her life.  Walking carefully, she curled her long body around the crystal.  The dragon waited, studying the blue glow until she fell asleep. 

~*~*~

            Oran solidified in the center of his room, breathing hard.  Why was Athis being so pigheaded?  They were working on a new branch of magic entirely.  She couldn't expect results immediately!  Moving one of the large piles of equipment on his desk next to others on the floor, the mage slumped onto the worn wooden surface that still bore scars of another of his experiments.  The crystal on the corner of his desk winked blue at him, somehow just as taunting as Athis's comments in the mountains.  He had promised to help her any way he could… he just needed more time.  There would be a way, and he would find it.  Oran took out a leather-bound record book, angrily slashed out several of today's spells, and began to note the events and evidence of the new findings.

            His studious work was interrupted by a knock on the door.  Giving a slight groan, Oran shoved the record book under a textbook and opened the door.

            Mina stood there, ready to knock again.  Her face betrayed her surprise at him being in his room, then smoothed out into her customary smile.  "Oran, I wasn't sure I would catch you," the blonde began.  "But you said you had some crystals primed for shielding the experiment, and I was hoping to continue…"

            "Yes, of course," Oran said.  "If you wouldn't mind waiting for a moment while I find them."  He turned and began to burrow thorugh the teetering piles in his room nearest the bed.  He got only a glimpse of how Mina's nose wrinkled at the constant disorder his room was in.  Athis had never appreciated it either.

            He heard Mina yelp as she stepped on some rocks near the door, then stumble to the area of his desk.  She sighed, commenting, "How do you ever find anything in this realm of Chaos without killing yourself?"  Oran just flashed her a smile, then began on another pile.  Silence reigned for a moment.

            "Did you hear about the rogue mage?" Mina asked.

            "No, not at all."

            "Well, there was a man from the naturalist's side of the university.  They say he was marketing in poisons and illegal drugs.  Magically grown ones.  They only just caught him."

            "Do you know who it was?  I have friends from there."

            "No."

            "Oh."

            "The news is spreading like wildfire, though.  The people all know about it.  Many are scared of the university, you know."

            "Got it!"  Oran stood holding a collection of sixteen clear crystals.  "This will be enough, right?"

            "It should be," Mina assured him.  "Come, we can set it up right now."

            Oran nodded, quickly brushing debris off of his robe.  "This should be a good experiment.  After all, if we straighten out this anti-dust spell, housewives will sing our praises forever," the man said, trying to mask a yawn as a storm of exhaustion broke over him.

            Mina gave a curt nod and the two walked out the door, Oran just remembering to lock the door behind them.

~*~*~

            This is a godsforsaken hour to be up, Oran thought as he stumbled into his room.  It was too many hours after dusk for him to recall and the only light in the room came from moonlight streaming through the window.  Something in that thought jarred his sleep-fogged mind, but as he reached for it, the thought left him.  Joy, the mage thought, that was probably the last intelligent thing I'd know tonight.  He collapsed on the bed, not bothering to remove his robe or any of the items strewn on his bed in his search for the crystals.

            In what seemed a mere moment, there was a loud bang just near his door.  Oran jerked upright, suddenly seeing the bang was his door, which was now flat to the wall and letting in a large collection of mages and soldiers.  One burly man grabbed the young mage by the arms and pushed him to the floor.  Oran moaned as he felt steel cuffs locked around his wrists.  His magic retreated before the power in the cuffs, hiding itself Shakith-knew-where within him.  A rough hand tugged his hair, forcing Oran to look up at the dean of the university.

            The dean was an old man, lean and weathered by years in Carthak's hostile environment.  Usually firm, the man now looked only tired.  Oran shivered.  Somehow in the light of the crystal the guards held, the dean's face looked like a skull.

            "Mage Oran Kowiin, you are under arrest for the use of harmful experiments against human beings and your fellow mages and for the disappearance of Mage Athis Termari."

            Oran stared at the man, stammering.  "But I never meant to… I didn't… how?"  

Mina stepped forward.  Her blue robe glinted in the light. "Oran, it's mages like you that make people fear the university.  I'm sorry, but you needed to be stopped," she told him.  In her pale hands she held the record book and his crystal, now black without his magic to fuel it.  Her eyes had tears in them, but her face was as stone as Oran was dragged out the door.


	4. Last Night

Disclaimer:  I do not own this universe; it belongs to Tamora Pierce.  Athis, Oran, Mina and Hald Urose are mine; you can use them, but please ask. 

Author's Notes:  Hi, again!  I may be off for a while.  I was writing this during my extra time in keyboarding class ("But I am practicing my keyboarding!") and we're changing teachers.  Who knows if I'll get time with the new one.  Once again, thank you all for your interest!  I hope this answers all questions.                                 -StarWitch

Oran let loose a soft grunt as he was thrown into a gray cell in the mage's end of the jail in Carthak.  Specifically made to deal with troublesome mages, the small stone building was warded by the university and kept as far from the rest of the jail as was possible.  Oran had seen it only once, when as a very young mage he came on a field trip.  He still remembered the cold feel of the place, as if it was in Scanra or some forgotten northern country instead of Carthak's desert.  And now he was getting a reminder.

            The place, as usual, was near deserted.  In fact, only the cell to the right of Oran was in use.  Its occupant had crowded near to the thin open slot in his cell door when Oran was dragged, showing only his eyes.  Red, bloodshot eyes.  Was that just the man, or a hint as to the regimen had at the jail?

            "Hoy in there!" a gravelly voice called from the cell.  The guard closing the door paused.

            "You know, if I were you," the young man told the mage, "I'd not associate with him over there.  He's a bad sort, Mithros strike me.  I pray the Hag get him soon."

            Oran shivered.  To actually wish the Graveyard Hag on a person was one of the worst curses you could lay.  The mage backed away from the right wall, settling down against the cool stone wall on the left.  His robe was too thin to keep the chill of the cell off him, and sitting back tugged back his sleeves to reveal the steel cuffs that dug into his wrists.  Blood created slick trails across the backs of his hands.  Tugging lightly at the right cuff, Oran felt something grate painfully against the bones of his wrists.  He had only heard of the spiked mage cuffs, but Oran would bet the Hag herself that that was what bound him.

            Spiked mage cuffs had been a recent invention of the war mages.  The bands used before to bind mages sometimes slipped off, or were forced off by their captive.  The cuffs, however, had half-inch long spikes to cling to the prisoner's bones.  Only a desperate prisoner would force them off, as it would mean destroying both hands in the process.

            "Hoy in there!" the gravelly voice called again.  "Who are you and what put you here?"  Oran shivered away from the direction of the voice, the guard's words running through his head.  "I said, who are you?  We get so few visitors, or at least that's what the guards said."

            "What the guards said?"

            "So you aren't mute!  Now who are you!"

            "I am… a fool."

            "Aren't we all.  I am Hald Urose, at your service.  As long as we're here, anyway.  You have shackles?"

            Oran gritted his teeth at the metal around his wrists.  "Yes."

            "Well no reason to go mad about," the gravelly voice complained.  "I've got them too. Like any other sort of slime that-"

            Oran stopped listening to the man on the other side of the wall rant. Calming his breathing, he focused on the place where he had always found the orange spring of his magic.  Slipping down into it, he touched the place.  Somehow, to his mind, it felt like a crystal barrier.  Hard, cold, and smooth, without a flaw.  Not a hint of orange within it.

            "-and I don't see why selling my herbs is such a crime.  After all, people sell spelled things all the time, why not herbs?  And if people use them to poison, what blame is that on me?" Hald Urose continued.  "I didn't tell them to poison anyone-"

            Oran froze, remembering Mina's words.

_"Well, there was a man from the naturalist's side of the university.  They say he was marketing in poisons and illegal drugs.  Magically grown ones.  They only just caught him…"_

This man, then, was the one with the poisons!  Oran sighed.  Just like him to get the crazy man in the next cell.  Today was just getting better and better.  Athis mad, Mina catching him…

Something nagged at one corner of his mind when he thought of the blue-robed mage.  She hadn't caught him before, so why now?  How had she gotten the record book?  He'd locked the door when he left, so…  Oran thought as Hald continued his rant in the next cell.

Suddenly Oran jerked upright.  She had been near his desk after she stumbled.  He had shoved the thin record book under one of his thickest textbooks.  That meant the textbook wouldn't settle right onto the desk, but be strangely lifted, and Mina had been suspicious before.  She noticed, picked up the text, and looked through my entries while he was occupied with the warding crystals.  Including the entry on the crystal.  Tucked both into her robes, left with them, showed them to the Dean, got him imprisoned.

He had been so stupid!  No wonder he had been caught!  And now there was no one to help Athis.  His fault.  No jokes would get them out of this one, and the punishment would be more than the times he had gotten slave's duty for pranks.

In the darkened cell, listening to the rough voice of a furious mage, Oran silently began to cry.

~*~*~

Athis woke in the middle of the night from a nightmare of stone cages sinking into the mud.  The screams of the cages' occupants still ringing in her head, the mage angled her long dragon's head to view the crystal curled in one clawed paw.

The crystal was black.  Not the blue it should have been, or even red, but obsidian black.

-_Oran never mentioned anything about a black symbol_- Athis said to herself.  She delicately touched one claw to the crystal's smooth face.  No current of magic lay there, only a sort of… Athis thought.  She still wasn't used to this way of feeling magic or the messages it gave her.  Still, the crystal seemed to carry only a- _Residue_- Athis whispered. –_The magic is long gone_.-  But the crystal drew its power from Oran's magic, and should not have left.

The dragon twisted herself out of the cave and studied the skies.  Oran had wonderful control of his magic.  She had never known him to lose control of a continuous enchantment, and the crystal spell was not difficult.  It suggested what she most feared:  something had happened to the man.  

Oran had a knack for getting into trouble.  If he had come to harm somehow, he would need her help, no matter what form that came in.  On the other hand, the woman mused, the city was far.  Walking there, especially in the unfamiliar dragon form, would take days.

However, dragons were not made for walking about.  They were made for flying.  Athis shivered.  For all of her legends, she had no clue how something quite as large as a dragon could get off the ground.  It couldn't be too different from a bird, could it?  And Oran still needed help.

Steeling herself, Athis extended her large emerald wings and began to flap them in tandem.  –_Up, two three, down, two, three, up, two, three, down, two_- Athis chanted as she slowly hovered into the air.  Her shoulders screamed at her as she stretched muscles unused for weeks, but she was up! Up!

Hesitantly floating down the mountain, Athis dodged the stunted trees as she flapped back toward the university.  Flight had always been her preferred form of travel, being so fast and comfortable.  Unlike the wagons she was expected to ride.  Or horses; horses had an annoying tendency to rear when Athis sat upon them.

She chuckled, then dodged another tree.  The only minus to flying, Athis thought to herself, was the need for concentration.  If your mind wandered, most often you'd hit a tree or building.  There had been many runs to the infirmary before she learned her lesson.  Then there was the one time she had gotten her fellow mages into the air with her…

~*~*~

It was still dark in the cell when Oran woke from an odd dream of clanking chains.  The room seemed wrong tonight, too dark and small.  Not to mention cold. And had he fallen asleep with his robe on again?

Memories came back in a flash.  He was in the mage's jail.  Mina had caught him.  Athis was still stuck.  And the cell was freezing.

The clanking sound purveying his dreams sounded again.  Creeping to the door, Oran saw a large, frowning man with the look of a Copper Islander being chained by two guards.  Another guard stood watch, noticing when Oran pushed up to the tiny slot in his door.  "Finally decided to wake up?" the man sneered at the mage.

Oran decided it was best to ignore the man's tone of voice.  If he was in prison a while, it was best not to antagonize the men who controlled his food and shelter.  Like antagonizing the Dean of the university was not a good idea when one was a mage in that "abode of higher learning."

"What's going on?"

"They said Urose is to be beheaded tonight."

"They?"

"The judge.  Said Urose is mad and shouldn't stay to go loose.  Must take care of him before he gets out or kills someone.  Near scalped one of my fellows already."  The guard leaned over to the cell, treating Oran with the scent of rancid sausage.  "Got the idea that you don't want to try that?  At least, assuming you want your head."  The caged mage nodded and backed away from the smell, wrinkling his nose and thinking about all the jokes he shouldn't make about the man's breath.  

He heard a door slam, raising warped echoes down the hall.  Shivering with cold and fear, Oran crept to the tiny window at the top of the outside wall.  Below lay a wide dirt field, its only defining features being the stone pedestal in the center and the red stain surrounding the rock.  Lit by moonlight and a large collection of torches and lightglobes, there were far more people than he expected at this time of night surrounded the squared stone, including a man with a wicked-looking ax.  As Oran watched, the three guards and their prisoner appeared from a gray entranceway and walked up a path between the people to the pedestal.  They stripped Urose of his shirt.  One guard took out a whip and began to slash at the prisoner.  Red ran down the man's back, making Oran stomach tighten.

Faintly, Oran heard a well-dressed man call out, "This Hald Urose, of the Copper Isles and the university, is charged with the making of poisons, growing illegal plants, and murder.  He is deemed insane.  The sentence, as supported by the almighty Emperor, by the high priest of Mithros, and by the Judge of Carthak, is death."

Two of the leather-armored guards took Urose by the arms, led him to the pedestal, and pushed the man to his knees.  His head cracked hard against the stone as the man with the ax stepped close.

Oran closed his eyes and sank down against the wall.

The first thunk caused the sentenced man to scream without stopping.  It continued through the next six thunks, then stopped suddenly.  As the wet thunks continued, Oran crawled into a corner of his cell on weak knees and threw up.

~*~*~

Athis was more than two thirds of the way there.  Dawn was only beginning to dye the sky pink and the light was slowly growing better.  That was when she noticed the caravan below her, and the small figure half hidden in a large winged shadow.  Athis gave an angry hum as the man- she thought it was a man- pointed her out to his fellows on the wagons, who promptly got out bows.

            -_Exactly what I needed_- Athis muttered.  –_A pile of scared dragonslayers_.-  She began to coast away from the trail.  Then a trail of fire flicked down her left wing and she was falling, plummeting to the rocky, scrub-covered ground.  Her wings were no longer working, the one wing shrieking as she attempted to slow her descent.  The wind whipped her about.  Athis trembled.  This wasn't how it was supposed to go!  The ground grew closer as the dragon-woman drew herself into a tight ball, hoping against a hard landing.

Athis thudded into the ground hard, knocking the breath out of her lungs and creating an excellent collection of sore spots.  She lay there, gasping and stunned. –_Note to Oran: dragons are remarkably hard to kill_.-

"Do you see it?" a man's voice called from a slight distance.  Athis sighed.  In the terror of her fall, she hadn't quite forgotten the caravan and its occupants.  

Or the pain in her wing, which still hadn't let up.  Glancing over her shoulder, Athis stared at the tattered webbing of her long wing.  –_What-?_- she questioned, then glanced back to where she thought she had first felt the pain.  There stood a tall, thin spear of rock projecting from the sandy desert floor.  Athis groaned.  Just her luck, she must have torn her wing on it!  No flying until it healed, and the men were getting closer.

Pulling herself together, Athis crawled to a nearby outcropping of red rock.  Her scales rasped against the rough stone, too loud.  One man called to his friends.  Athis tucked herself into as small a ball as she could, and began praying.

-_Mithros, Goddess, please protect me.  Graveyard Hag, trick my enemies.  Shakith, hide me.  Black God, deny me the way to your world.  Oh, gods, please assist this poor supplicant at your door_.-

The male voices were very close now, and their words clear.

"I 'eared somthin' over 'ere, I tell ye!"

"The demon dragon?"

"'Ow am I supposed to know!"

"Calm down, both of you!  It was hurt when it fell.  It can't be far."

Athis huddled tightly against the rock as the first man circled to her side of the rock.  He'd see her for sure.  What then?  Athis thought as she had been taught, calmly and rationally.  She was always the calm one before, and this was not the time to change it!

Flying was out of the question.  So was another hiding place; the desert had no places sufficient to hide her large body.  If she stayed as she was, she was at the mercy of the men.  With one calling her a demon, it seemed unwise.  Which left reasoning with them or attacking them.  Could these men hear dragonspeech?  Athis moaned inside.  She would have to attack, no matter that she had never harmed another before.  This was not a time to be moral or squeamish.

The man stood at the corner of the rock, staring about confusedly.  Athis froze.  Why hadn't he noticed her yet?  A dragon was a little large to miss!  The man stepped onto a niche in the rock, then turned.

"I don't see a thing!"

"But 'at's impossible!"

"I know."  The man sighed deeply, then stepped down from the rock.  "Probably better that way anyways.  Never good to mess with magic."

"Speakin' on magic, I saw the stupid mage die last night."

Athis's breath froze.

"What mage?"

"They just caught some mage doing things he shouldn' ta.  Messin' wi' things wi'out the university's say-so.  So they killed 'im."

"I hadn't heard a thing about a rogue mage."

"They only just caught 'im yesterday, and already he made trouble.  But did 'e scream!  I never thought anybody could scream like-"

Athis felt ready to scream.  A mage was caught yesterday and executed.  Oran's crystal was dark and magic-less.  A man was caught doing things he shouldn't without university permission.  A mage was executed yesterday.

A mage was executed yesterday.

Oran was dead.

-_Note to Oran: it is physically impossible for dragons to cry_.-

To be continued.  Please review!


	5. Hope Springs Eternal

Disclaimer:  That which belongs to the glorious Tamora Pierce belongs to her.  The rest belongs to me.

Author's Note:  Sorry I was gone so long.  You all are wonderful.  Love you and stars bless!     -StarWitch

                Athis sighed.  The tatters of her left wing fluttered at her, despite all her attempts to heal it.  –_Note 28 to Oran_- Athis said to herself –_not only do human healing spells not work on dragons, a dragon's center of magic is in a different location that the comparative spot of humans_. -  Oran would have a very complete book at this rate…

                Would have had…

                Athis forced her mind off the subject to the men who had surprised her earlier. Why had then men not seen her?  A blind man would have noticed her.  Athis shook her head.  She would have expected the men to see her large green form and start yelling "Dragon!" at the top of their lungs.  The dragon rested her long muzzle on her front paws, then wrapped her tail around herself.  Meditation had always helped Athis think before, and this position felt right.  A strange thing, considering dragon was not a normal state… She closed her eyes, slowly forgot the warmth of the earth, the pain of her wing, the scent of shrub and evergreen from the mountains, the taste of the sandy desert soil…

                There had been a tingling sensation in her belly when she had tried to hide from the men.  Athis drifted her mind to that point again.  A tingling sensation rushed over her, reminding her of swimming in the Inland Sea as a child, with the sand wafting against her skin.  She opened her eyes, giving a smile as the pearly violet film of her magic faded back into her.

                -_Better.  Much better_. -

                The mage crawled back to the muddy stream she had used earlier when trying the few healing spells she knew.  Tapping the core of her magic, Athis started reforming the patterns of magic that would make the wing whole.  Delicate in the bindings, strong as a whole…

                The spell dissipated as soon as it touched her wing.

                -_Note 29 to Oran: human spells really don't work on dragons_. -

                Athis studied the sky.  The sun was almost gone, and here she was with a ripped wing miles from her safe cave.  Without Oran too, Mithros show him light.  Athis bowed her head, the only mourning she could grant her friend now.

                Well if I stay out in the desert, the hyenas will send me to Oran very quickly, the sensible part of her said.  And she needed a whole wing to get to the mountains any time soon.  Her Gift couldn't do the healing. –_Hm…_-

                -_True healing magic, wild magic if it exists_…-

                -_The men didn't see me because my magic hid me.  They were on the road to the eastern parts…_-

                Athis smiled again, a fierce expression on a dragon, and shuffled toward the road, listening as hyenas barked in the distance.

~*~*~

                The hyenas' barking was still far off, but it was making the group of men and their camels twitch.  Maybe it could have been the camels also sensed the large green dragon studying their passengers with calculating eyes.  The men, like the other two groups she had observed, had no clue that she was there, putting down any nervousness to the sound of the Hag's precious hyenas. 

This group was slightly different though.  Two of the men were obviously guides, another two merchants on the road to the eastern ports where their ships would dock.  It was the remaining three men who had captured the mage's attention.  One was an older man, his light hair silvered and thinning, but his hands still large and hard.  The next was a servant, much like those many of the noble houses of Carthak had, but far better dressed than those Athis remembered.  The man had sharper eyes too, not the subservient blank eyes she saw on the slaves or poor servants near the college.  However, the youngest man took her attention.  He wore the tan robe given to a foreign mage, with the leaf green patterns of a healer on the sleeves.  His skin was pale, with reddish-brown hair and freckles across high cheekbones.  He also seemed inquisitive.  The elder man seemed to constantly be calling back to the young healer, as if afraid the man would wander off.

Athis smiled.  Perfect.

The men took a while to settle, but finally the camp fell silent.  Athis shivered, then made sure to make sure her magical cloak would keep her invisible.  Keeping quiet as a large lizard could, she crept to the bedroll on the edge of camp with a thatch of reddish hair.  Her paws settled softly next to the man, then slipped about the tall slim form.  He stirred, forcing Athis to murmur a sleep spell over her breath.  She gave a slight smile as she watched the magic slip about the man's body, making him go limp.  Suddenly the camels started snorting loudly, raising shouts from the other bedrolls.  Athis froze.  What was she to do now?  Her sensible mind took control.  Her cloak of invisibility fell about her and the healer as the bedroll and its blankets fell from the young man's body.  The older man, who now bore a sword in one hand, jogged from a tent set at the center of the camp.  He noticed the tumbled bed, then looked about for any sign of its occupant.  Athis stopped breathing.  The man might walk into her, and then what would she do?  She did not want to hurt the man, who had to be a knight.  She concentrated on the invisibility spell, staring through it at the knight.  The knight frowned, then whirled and stalked to the others of the group.  Athis crept away, then allowed herself a soft sigh.  No one followed her.

~*~*~

Athis sat curled at the rock she had first hidden behind, watching as the sun rose and made heat shimmers rise from the desert sand.  A soft groan made her arch her head over to where she had settled the healer last night. The man had one hand to his head and was staring at the dawn sky.  Athis padded over.  –_Are you well?_- Athis asked.  –_I fear I was rougher last night than I meant to be_.-

Wide eyes, the same green as her scales, studied her with amazement.  "Dragon?" the man whispered, his voice soft.  "That's impossible."  He shook his head, as if to clear the clouds from his mind, then glanced up again.  His hand drifted to his waist.

Athis shook her head.  –_You don't have your sword, and I am very real_. -  Athis lowered himself to her front paws in the closest approximation to a bow she had found.  –_Athis Termari, sir healer.  And you are called…?_ -

The man gave her a wan smile as he took his hand away from his waist.  "Sir Nathaniel of Queenscove, at your service, my lady."  He paused.  "Athis Termari is a draconic name?  I would have thought it would be more like Windrider, or maybe Songcloud," the man commented.  "Although you don't look like a Songcloud."

-_Athis is my name, Sir Nathaniel_, - Athis told the man stiffly. –_Now, I would appreciate your help_. -

"Oh?" Sir Nathaniel said.  "How could I help you?"  Athis dangled her torn wing in front of the healer.  Nathaniel whistled between his teeth, wincing.  "A moment, Lady," he commented.  His long fingers toyed with the scraps of skin of Athis's wing, tugging the tatters together for a moment.  Sir Nathaniel crossed in front of her.  "You want me to heal this?" he asked her.  

Athis nodded.  –_Could you fix it?_ -

Nathaniel frowned.  "It will take time," he said.  "You'll need to be still too, while I do the work."  Nathaniel wiped at one eye.  "And no eating of the hired help, right?"  He quirked one eyebrow at Athis, almost making her smile before she realized it would likely cause the man to fear.

-_You have a deal, Sir Nathaniel of Queenscove_. -

"Call me Neal and you have a deal."

-_Agreed_. -

Neal grinned.  "Then let's start working!" he commented cheerfully.  "After all, who wouldn't want to claim he saved a dragon?"


	6. Tales and Trust

Disclaimer:  The universe, especially Carthak and Queenscove, belong to the marvelous Tamora Pierce.  Athis, Nathaniel of Queenscove, Sir Grailen of Grenfeld, and all unrecognizable characters are mine.

Author's Note:  Hail!  This may be my last one for a bit, as drama takes more time than one would ever guess. Anyway, enjoy and stars bless!     -StarWitch

            Athis yawned and checked the magical leash on the healer yet again.  Neal was resourceful, she gave him that.

            She felt another hard tug on the leash. –_And persistent_.- Athis had been reluctant to test her magic in front of the man, letting him go out to get food rather than risk either harming Neal or letting him realize she wasn't that powerful or knowledgeable.  Even though the healer thought Athis could crisp him, this had been his sixth attempt in two days.

            With a quick thought and a violet glitter of light, Sir Nathaniel sat before the dragon, a slight frown knitting his brows.  Athis felt her mouth twitch, recognizing the meditation form used to focus one's magical energy.

            -_That was a good try.  Did you get some food while you were out?-_

            The healer opened his mouth for a moment, then shut it and nodded.  He slowly got up and walked briskly to Athis's wing, jerking slightly when the dragon-woman shifted.  His gentle hands toyed with the torn skin of her wing.  Silence fell.

            Athis's body wanted to sleep, lulled by the afternoon heat and the healer's ministrations, but her mind was wide awake and nervous.  Neal tended to chatter as he worked, humming if he was concentrating.  The silence was odd and boded ill.  So did the lack of his usual energy.  She wished him no harm.

            -_Sir Nathaniel?_- she said softly.

            The hands on her wing stilled for a moment, then continued.

            -_Are you well?_- Athis asked again, a warbling note she couldn't help in her mind-voice.  She knew he was scared of her, but if he was hurt…

            The man gave a soft sigh.  "Your wing will be healed soon, my lady."

            -_I asked after your health, not my wing, sir healer_.-

            The silence gaped again as his hands slowed.  "I am well," Neal said.  Athis tapped him lightly with her tail.  "Well," he admitted, "a touch homesick.  And I have no clue how Sir Grailen took my disappearance."

            Athis twisted her head about to watch Neal, remembering the silver-haired knight.  –_He was well when I last checked, if very angry.  He doesn't blame you at all_- she assured Neal. –_He thinks someone ambushed you_.- The man nodded in relief, a slight smile on his lips.  Athis considered him a moment.  –_This is your first time so far from home, isn't it?_-

            Neal nodded.  "I wasn't-" he stopped, then considered Athis as if measuring her, and shrugged.  "I guess it doesn't matter to you, and you wouldn't be telling a thing to anyone, would you?"  Athis nodded her long head.  Neal settled cross-legged on the ground and the dragon lowered her wing to him.

            "I was only knighted a Midwinter ago" he began, "and before that Sir Grailen was my knight-master.  Someone said he was to teach me tranquility and patience."  Neal's brows quirked and his eyes took a wicked glint.  "To be honest, instead I taught him impatience."  Athis chuckled low in her chest.  Beal continued, "But I did learn being a decent knight from him, and in the end healing taught me to slow down and be calm, for a while.  This was to be my first big mission, out overseas with only Sir Grailen.  I haven't written home for a while now.  I hope they're not worried."

            -_Who's at home?_-

            "My parents, my grandmother, a tangle of siblings, nieces and nephews.  Some of my brothers and sisters are older than me, and already have way too many little ones underfoot.  Queenscove won't be quiet for another century, at least.

            "I'm one of the younger ones, and basically without a place unless I attract an heiress or earn somewhere from the crown.  Of those, the second is better and much more likely.  Tells something that I doubt it will ever work," he said with a rueful smile.

            Athis cocked her head to the side at that, curiosity questioning how one could know.  As a human, she hadn't been good at divination, but as a dragon…

            On Athis's eyes, she could see the cord of magic connecting her to the young healer-knight, the subtle traces of healings across her wing, and the delicate gold-green tint of healing magic in Neal.  Stretching out a mental claw to that faint aura, Athis carefully thought out a question-spell to the gods.

            -_Is there a loving wife and home in his future, Shakith?_-

            Her mind walked through a line of violet flames, a gate of glittering gold wind, and finally stopped in front of an opaque black wall.  Athis pressed up against it, distantly surprised that it was human hands she pressed against the wall, a human face she pressed into the smooth, cool surface.  Still shaded by the wall, subtle shapes bloomed and shifted.  Athis squinted, and the image became slightly clearer.  An image of a smiling man with a child on his shoulders, a lovely woman at his side and two more little ones running about them.

            Athis smiled to herself and drifted back into her body.  –_You need not worry about your future, sir healer._- she told Neal, resettling her limbs.

            The man frowned slightly as he bent over a shredded flap of skin.  "What makes you say that?" he asked absently.

            -_Just trust me.-_

~*~*~

            Sir Nathaniel's escape attempts ended that day, Athis thought to herself, but I'm still glad I kept the leash on him.  It wasn't that the man had caused problems, but rather that he seemed to attract them like an open door invited strangers.  For a week worth of healing, she had yanked the healer back to her eight times.  Athis shook her head.

            "Don't you give me that, Lady Athis.  I haven't a clue how I ended up that far in the desert!"

            -_You followed a mirage_.-

            "What is a mirage?"

            -_A mirage is an illusion of the mind.  One often sees them in the desert or at sea when the sun is high.  You do not follow them_.-

            "Hm…" the mage hummed.  "Sir Grailen could have mentioned that you don't follow wavering images in the desert."

            -_That is common sense_.-

            "Which I lack, according to you.  And it's mostly true."

            Athis sighed.  –_You're right.  He should have told you because you lack every vestige of sense_.-

            Neal mockingly frowned.  "I have some sense!"

            -_Your first comment to me was, "After all, who wouldn't want to claim he saved a dragon."  That shows little sense_.-  Athis said, cocking her head to one side.

            "You haven't hurt me at all, no nibbles, so I was right.  And I have bragging rights, which is even better."

            -_So you were sensible in healing me?_- Athis chuckled.

            "Of course!" Neal concluded with a broad grin.

            -_But then your first comment saying you have no sense is wrong.  What sense is there in contradicting yourself?_-

            Neal made a choking noise and opened his mouth.  Then closed it.  He shook his head.  "Arguing with you gives me a headache, my lady."

            Athis gave a smug draconic smile.  -_I know_.-

            A comfortable silence reigned for a few minutes, broken only by the healer's humming.  His voice seemed loud.

            "There we are!"

            -_Oh?_-

            "Your wing is as healed as anyone could make it, my lady," Sir Nathaniel told her.  "Although you may wish to test it first."

            Athis uncurled her long body and rose on her hind legs.  Delicately, she extended her wings and gave a gentle flap.

            It held.

            Athis flapped harder and harder, finally hovering into the air and taking a circle over the place she had lain for over a week.  Neal's upturned face followed her, his expression a mix of glee and awe.

            Athis landed lightly in front of the man, then gave an elegant approximation of a bow.  –_You do good work, sir healer._-

            Neal gave a smile.  "I'm glad," he told her honestly.  His smile grew slightly wistful.  "Flying looks wonderful."

            Athis nodded.  –_It is the epitome of existence._-

            Neal glanced down.  "This is really the end."

            -_Yes._-  A quick movement released the leash spell on the man.  –_I thank you for your help, Sir Nathaniel_- Athis told him, then prepared to take off.

            The man still stood there.

            Athis hesitated, then crouched down again.  –_I will give you a ride back to your companions, Sir Nathaniel.  It is a long way to walk_- she told him, wondering why she was doing this.

            Neal's green eyes grew wide.  "Mithros…" he whispered, then carefully walked up beside Athis's neck.  "You're sure about this, lady?" he asked her, suddenly sounding all of six.  A quick image of Oran, eager but cautious, bounced through her mind before Athis shoved it away.

            -_Do you want to ride or not?_- Athis asked, more irritably than she meant to sound.  She felt a slight weight as Neal clambered up and flung a leg over her neck.  The man leaned against her, holding tight, and the woman thought she felt him take a deep breath.

            "Shall we go, my lady?" Neal asked, his voice scared and excited.

            Athis began to flap her wings in the long-practiced pattern, the knight's weight mattering nothing to her.  She vaguely heard the man whoop as she began to glide back to the forest and the halted caravan, enjoying the feel of the warm air drafts and the sun on her scales and the cheerful shouts of the man on her back.

~*~*~

            Sir Grailen glared at the translator yet again.  "We do not leave until we locate Sir Nathaniel," he snapped.

            "With all due respect, sir," the translator said with one of the low bows Grailen had come to hate three days before, "the young knight is not likely to have survived more than a day without food or weapons.  You should accept the Black God has taken him and pray for his soul."

            Grailen shook his head and walked away from the turbaned Carthaki.  It was unlike Neal to be gone more than a day on his 'expeditions', and the boy's sense of direction was excellent, when he paid attention to it.

            "Boy," Grailen chuckled.  Neal was no longer a boy, but a knight in his own right.  Knighthood, though, protected from little.  The old knight sighed.  Head had lost those he trained before; Mithros willing, Neal would not join their number.

            A soft call made the man raise his head in the direction of the camp, but his servant Bryce looked just as puzzled as Grailen as to the source of the voice.

            "Grailen!" it came again.

            Grailen surged to his feet.  "Nathaniel!" he shouted.  "Get here, boy!"  Sure enough, it was his former squire who tromped through the brush, filthy and grinning.  The young man was unshaven, caked in dirt, and a pinch thinner than when Grailen had last seen him, but the green eyes were bright and excited.  Grailen's mouth involuntarily twitched and he clasped the boy's shoulder.  "Neal," he began, "do that again and I skin you with your own sword."

            Neal put on a serious face.  "Yes sir," he answered before his grin broke out again, "but wait until you hear what happened!"

            Grailen shook his head.  "Very well, lad," he said, "you can tell me on the way to a stream to get this dust off you."

            Neal nodded and started chattering as his former knight-master led him by one shoulder.

            Cloaked and invisible, Athis laughed.


	7. Alpha and Omega

> > Author's Notes: I'm actually in France right now, and soon will be in Toronto, Canada. Yay! Therefore it may be a while between chapters, but this may help tide some over. Thanks to Little Mage, my beta and dear friend who can bear to read this without corrections!
>> 
>> Disclaimer: I still do not own anything belonging to Tamora Pierce, gods, lands, or publishing grant (I wish!). I do own (checks growing list) Athis, Oran, Mina, Aiden, and all his brothers. If you want them, please ask first; I'll say yes for borrowing anyways.
>> 
>> * * *
>> 
>> Mina stood stiffly erect and tried not to breathe too deeply. She would have sworn stone didn't have a smell nor could keep one; the walls of the mages' prison were proving her wrong. The guards weren't much better, and not one had the majority of his teeth. She could feel their eyes on her chest and rear, measuring. Mina's hand clasped more tightly about the shield spell held in a stick in her pocket. The Dean's secretary had suggested Mina bring one when she heard where the younger woman was going. Mina reminded herself to give the secretary something nice soon.
>> 
>> As another guard leered, she corrected herself. Very soon.
>> 
>> "'Ere we are, milady," a helmeted guard slurred. He fumbled with the lock on the heavy wooden door.
>> 
>> "Milady," another guard said, "call us if you need some help. An' trust me, ye look like ye do!"
>> 
>> Almost against her will, Mina turned to stare at the guard. The man smirked, then patted her stomach. "Yer mage friends aren' doin' ye good enough. If ye need some help, we're men enough to do what yer pretty boys can't."
>> 
>> Mina froze, stifling a sigh of relief as she heard the lock open with a clunk behind her. She was _never_ going to come here again without one of the other mages. The guard opened the door just enough to let her through, his short sword at the ready. "If 'e gets bad, milady," the man whispered, "yell a bit an' we come to get 'um." Mina nodded and slipped through the cracked door, feeling the door shut behind her.
>> 
>> And felt something squish beneath her foot. Glancing down, Mina beheld a dark stain spreading through the weave of her robe's hem. A distinctive scent arose from the floor beneath her.
>> 
>> "Well," the cell's occupant said, "I wasn't putting that where I would find it."
>> 
>> Mina glanced up toward the voice and stifled a gasp. What appeared at first glance to be a pile of orange-brown rags in the corner near the barred window shifted, revealing Oran's filthy face. The boyish mage seemed to have aged years in the past five weeks. His face bore wrinkles that hadn't been there before, some half-hidden by the ragged beard on his cheeks. He had grown thin, almost gaunt. Most worrisome to Mina was the dullness in Oran's dark brown eyes. The man had always had a spark of humor and intelligence in those eyes, even for Mina. Now his eyes did not reflect the light at all.
>> 
>> "Oran Kowiin?" Mina asked, searching for the official detachment the Dean had used at Oran's arrest. "Mage Kowiin, I have some questions."
>> 
>> Oran did not look up.
>> 
>> Mina felt a scowl tug her lips, then smoothed out her face again. "Mage Kowiin, I do not wish to be here long," Mina said sharply. "The quicker you answer my questions, the quicker I can leave you be." She waited as the man in the corner shifted, still silent. "Oran," Mina began again, "I need to know what happened to Athis Termari. I suspect she's still somewhere, but I need to know where to look."
>> 
>> Oran shook his head, shivering in the hot afternoon air.
>> 
>> "Oran?" Mina said. The man's shuddering increased. Mina studied the mage, feeling awkward as she hadn't for years. She had liked Oran. She had turned him in, and through that turned him into this wreck in the corner. _No! _Mina thought to herself. _Not my fault._ If Oran hadn't bespelled Athis without the necessary approval from the university, nothing would have happened to him. It was Oran's fault.
>> 
>> She quietly walked over to Oran's corner and crouched beside him. "Oran," she said, "you have to tell us where Athis is. It's not in your notes. Don't you want to help Athis?"
>> 
>> Oran gave a shuddering groan. "She's in my dreams."
>> 
>> "What?" Mina said.
>> 
>> "She's there, accusing me. Pointing at me, screaming. I was trying to help her, she knew that! But there she is again when I sleep. And I see her transform, again and again, screaming. My book, written in her blood. Why can't she leave me alone, I was trying to help her…" Oran's voice cracked into silence, arms tight about his knees, face hidden in the remains of his robe. Mina shivered, then stretched out a hand to touch him. Oran shrugged away, jamming himself tightly into the corner of the stone cell.
>> 
>> Mina stood, exasperated. "Oran, Athis is still in need of your help. Now will you say where in this mortal realm she is, besides your dreams!" Mina said.
>> 
>> Oran's shoulders shook. Mina sighed, shook her head, and headed to knock on the door. A quick rap made the door creak open, the leering guards peering in at her and Oran in the corner. Mina shook her head at them and stepped out.
>> 
>> "She's in the mountains to the east."
>> 
>> Mina turned. Oran was still huddled in the corner, but the cracked voice was recognizably his. "She's in a cave in the mountains. Search there." He shuddered again. "Mage Kerma, should you see Athis, I'm sorry." Oran trembled, causing Mina to twitch as the impulse to comfort him appeared and was stifled. "I'm so very sorry," Oran said, and fell silent.
>> 
>> Mina nodded briskly, head reeling. With a quick movement, she stepped out of the room and the cell door banged shut on Oran Kowiin.
>> 
>> Athis trembled with energy. The air smelled of spices and the sea, hummed with the voices of dozens of people about their lives. The water stretched out, blue with white ruffled caps, for as far as she could see. _Seems like forever, _Athis thought. _And I want to get across that place?_ She sighed to herself, acknowledging that this would be more difficult than she thought. _Serves me right for never seeing this place before_. Athis relaxed on the flat, whitewashed roof, once again in rapture at the expanse of changeable blue so alien –and yet so similar to- the wide sands and oases of home. Gentle and energetic at once, the Great Inland Sea promised fresh new life. And that was something she needed. Villagers' searches had driven her from her cave, and Athis knew she needed the updrafts and food of the mountains. The desert would leave her grounded, a large lump in a pile of sand. Besides, the only food would likely be camels and the Graveyard Hag's sacred hyenas. Not good options. The lands across the sea, the exotic places of Tortall, Tyra, Galla, and Scanra, promised lonely mountains rich with food. Athis gave a draconic grin. She had always wanted to travel…
>> 
>> However, accommodations for the voyage were proving more difficult. The trip would have been easy as a woman, but as a dragon, there were no kindly merchants willing to rent room on ship or, for that matter, ship rooms large enough to hold her. Athis studied the boats in front of her, guessing how much extra weight they could take. Dragons couldn't be that heavy, but she was a bit big.
>> 
>> Suddenly, Athis's eyes lit on a larger boat being loaded at the end of the piers. A blue and green banner flapped from the mast, with the design of the Tyra merchants upon it. A flurry of dockhands scrambled beside the ship, pushing barrels as if scared for their lives, ducking away from the large, portly man directing them in a loud, accented voice. With a tremble from her head to her tail and a brief check of her invisibility, Athis carefully took off from the roof and glided on the breeze toward the forward mast of the large ship. The winds tickled over her scales, shifting like a large cat about her. One wind gave out, sending Athis ungracefully down atop the forward mast. With a suppressed hiss and an intense shot of magic to her invisibility shield, Athis dug claws into the mast and attempted to twist her tail about it. The deckhands screamed as the boat rocked.
>> 
>> The portly man came at a slow run to the gangplank. "You idiots!" he yelled. "Have care for that cargo! It came from the Imperial Palace itself, you clumsy oafs, and I won't lose an ounce of it from you lazy rotting fish! So get it set in order, the _right_ way!" He strode back to the side, complaining about crazy dockhands whose handling rocked the boat.
>> 
>> Athis sighed. She released her claws from the mast (wincing at the new gouges in the wood) and climbed atop the crossbeam. The sea breezes whipped her wings, forcing her to tuck them carefully to her back. Stretching her neck about to work out the tension of her excitement, Athis watched as the portly man half-waddled up the ramp with a collection of Carthaki and Tyran sailors following, laughing and waving to those on the dock. They quickly assumed their posts on deck, reminding Athis so much of the Emperor's servants she blinked. However, these people laughed as they worked, sang as they hauled lines, and teased the youngest of the crew gently about the duties and the sea monsters to be seen. Something relaxed inside Athis. This voyage would be a good one; he simply knew it.
>> 
>> "All ashore that's going ashore!" the portly man boomed with a thunderous bass voice. The crew laughed loud and hard. With a smile on his round face, the portly merchant shouted, "Come men, the _Likalan_ shall take us home. Heave to!"
>> 
>> The ropes binding the boat to the dock were cast off. Athis delicately balanced herself as the sails came up, causing the _Likalan_ to jump into motion. The men shouted as the ship came free of the harbor.
>> 
>> Athis laughed, looking back down toward the men. And yet….
>> 
>> She looked up. Carthak was fading into the distance, her white-yellow sands and her brown rock mountains blurring from individual places to a child's streaky painting. Athis twisted about the mast to face behind, looking for the golden brightness of the Palace, or the woods before the mountains, or the villages that drove her out. Only a hint of gray village on a nearby mountain peak suggested her life had occurred there. Athis ducked her long head.
>> 
>> _ Good-bye Father. Good-bye Mother. Good-bye Asha, I'm sorry I never met your newborn, my sister. Good-bye Naveed, little brother, and keep them proud. Good-bye Hana, be a better mage than I am. I know you are._
>> 
>> _ Good-bye Oran. I love you all, and I miss you so very much._
>> 
>> Feeling stiff and tired, Athis draped herself over the crossbeam and watched the lines of the docks fade away into the blue sheets of sea and sky.
>> 
>> "Now you see, my dear, I told you she would have the sense to head out," the Graveyard Hag cackled, snatching a few dark gems from Jihuk. Aiden covered a snort and pretended to be enwrapped in his chess game, watching as Mynoss dealt both gods a glare before stalking off.
>> 
>> "Now you know," a soft, quick voice said in his ear, "that Mynoss is just annoyed about how the Hag always wins. Swears she must be cheating, rankles the judge alright!"
>> 
>> Aiden glanced up at the lean, red-haired man who directed a quick, crooked grin at him. "Kyprioth, you're not about to do what I'm thinking, are you?" he asked with the low tone he had perfected over the eons to keep the other gods from noticing him.
>> 
>> The Trickster's grin widened. "Watch and see, little one, watch and see." Ignoring the irritated noise from Aiden at the pet name, Kyprioth sauntered over to the Hag and Jihuk.
>> 
>> Jihuk's fierce frown seemed not to worry the Hag not at all. "If you can't risk losing, dear, you shouldn't bet," she cackled at Jihuk. Jihuk raised an eyebrow, dealt her a scowl, and walked off. The Hag twisted about on her staff, studying the grinning young man before her and glancing back at Aiden. The youngest of the Scanran Great Gods shrugged, settling his head on his hand to watch. The Graveyard Hag smirked, then tipped her head back to study the Trickster. "Yes, my dear Kyprioth?"
>> 
>> "You're taking bets on Athis Termari, the one they're calling the Dragon Mage?" the Trickster asked.
>> 
>> "But of course, dearie," the Hag said. "It's been a while since we've had entertainment like this."
>> 
>> "Hm," the Trickster hummed. "Lay a wager?"
>> 
>> The Hag grinned. "What for?"
>> 
>> "Let's say a favor, to be called in whenever."
>> 
>> "And the bet?" the Hag said, her one eye glittering.
>> 
>> "I bet Athis reaches the Roof of the World by Midsummer."
>> 
>> "She reaches the Roof in eight months from Carthak? My dear, I accept."
>> 
>> "Good," the Trickster said with a grin. "I thought you would."
>> 
>> The Hag smiled with a mouth of broken teeth. "I'll be watching, dearie." She started out towards her spot in the courtyard of the gods.
>> 
>> Aiden got to his feet and approached the red-haired god. "I'm not so sure that was wise, my friend," he began. "The Hag is going to win that one, hands-down."
>> 
>> "Ah, but I've an ace up my sleeve," the Trickster commented. He took a sharp look at Aiden.
>> 
>> "Me?" the brown-haired god said in shock. "Kyprioth, my brothers will kill me if I interfere, and you know it! Mother above, this is exactly the sort of thing Yorrad and Scaer would use to keep me here another thousand years." Aiden shook his head, wondering when his two oldest brothers would allow him out of the Divine Realms again.
>> 
>> "Come on, Aiden, you'll never get anywhere if you let your brothers dominate you," Kyprioth said, tapping the younger god on the head.
>> 
>> "Spoken like someone without siblings," Aiden said, ducking away. "And I've got six older ones to worry about. Forget if Mithros or the Goddess notices. No, Ky, not on your life."
>> 
>> "Now, look, Aiden," Kyprioth said, "just use some of that wonderful foresight and strategy you have and find a way around it. I'll even help you. And I know you're interested in this matter."
>> 
>> Aiden sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
>> 
>> "Nope." The Trickster grinned.
>> 
>> Aiden ran a hand through his hair, looking more like a very young nobleman than the god of wisdom he was. "If I go and look for Athis, see what I could do, would you leave me alone?"
>> 
>> "Deal."
>> 
>> "It had better be," Aiden said with a groan. "Yorrad will have my hide."
>> 
>> "Ah, brothers," Kyprioth said. "Aren't they just wonderful!"
>> 
>> Aiden shook his head. With a subtle glimmer of gold light, he transformed into a small brown hawk and disappeared.
>> 
>> The Trickster settled at Aiden's chessboard, picked up a bishop, and rolled it about. Aiden's help was excellent, but it would take time. Time, however, was something he had.


End file.
